Last Stand (The Black Mage #4)(33)

“Neither of their highnesses have returned.”

I didn’t flinch as I looked to Conrad, one of the four guards standing at attention in front of the very wing I needed to inspect. There was no chance I could enter the wrong chamber unnoticed. If it were just the old man, perhaps, but all four guards were Mira’s hand-selected recruits. Knowing her, she had probably told them to pay extra attention to “the sister of the rebel,” princess or not.

“Thank you. I wasn’t sure if they had.” There was no point in pretending I needed my shared chamber with the prince.

“Mira was looking for you.” The head guard scratched at his beard, his expression kinder than the others. I suspected he took pity on the lowborn girl who was the subject of the head mage’s wrath. We’d been on friendly terms before Mira had taken up her role in the palace. “She said to tell you their investigations are over and you are to report to the Council hall for your regular post starting at dawn.”

Inside, my chest withered away at the news. My time was up. Ten days and I had nothing to show for the effort. I was a master at plans and a failure at action.

“Tell her I will be thrilled to put my talents to use guarding an empty room.”

One of the others chuckled, quickly muffling their snort with a cough.

“The prince is in the practice courts with the king.”

“With the king?” I was sure I had misheard.

“His majesty might not share his brother’s propensity for magic, but I say he isn’t the worst I’ve ever seen with a sword.”

“He trains?”

“Not as often as the regiment, mind you, but he does join on occasion.” The man brushed absently at his tunic. “He took it up after the prince left for the Academy. My own boys would rather quarrel than spend an hour in one another’s company, but that is not these brothers’ case.”

I wished it was. I wasn’t thrilled to hear Blayne could fence, even less so that he had taken it up to impress Darren. The more time those two spent together, the stronger the bond… and it would be that much harder to convince Darren his brother was a heartless dictator when the time came.

“How—” There was acid on my tongue; I made myself swallow. “—touching.”

“Are you planning on joining them?” One of the guards looked on eagerly. “Our shift is almost up. It’s not often one gets to see the whole of the Crown duel.”

If you stick around long enough, you might get the chance. I shook my head, wisely choosing to not speak that last thought aloud.

“Very well, Your Highness.” The older knight gave me a parting nod.

I started to walk past, only to pause in afterthought. My stomach twisted. “Conrad?”

“Yes?” The guard gave me a surprised cough; I could tell he hadn’t expected me to remember his name from before.

“No ‘highness.’ It’s just Ryiah, please.”

“Very well, your—that is to say—Ryiah.”

“Thank you.”

I turned a key to my chamber lock, twisting it so hard it hurt.

I was a mage and a girl, and that was all I would ever be. Anything else was a lie.



*

“Don’t drop that shield. It should be an extension of your arm, my lady.”

I glowered at my guard as we switched positions. We’d been dueling like this for an hour. Originally it had been my idea—a way to distract from the last week and a half of fruitless searching in the palace—but now I was regretting it. Paige was more critical than any of my training masters when we practiced.

I wanted a quick victory, but Paige was determined to make me work for it.

I’d neglected my training for most of a month, and it showed a bit too well when matched against a knight without magic.

“You can’t be mortal.” My teeth gritted against the effort to hold the shield level with my chest. “These weigh at least double the regiment standard.”

“Crown issue or not—” Paige met my sword, side-stepping with impossible ease. “—that’s no excuse to neglect your training.”

“I’m not.” I lunged forward again with a thrust of the sword.

The knight parried my cut. There was the loud clang of metal on metal, and we drew apart. “You are. You do half the strengthening routines you should.”

“Not all of us are built with the arms of a bloody mule.” I exhaled, darting left. “And I’ll have you know, I do the best I—”

“She’s too used to employing her magic in the lift.” Darren’s voice rang outside the barracks’ outdoor arena; his chuckle grew louder on approach. There was the shift of worn leather against snow and then his voice rang out from the stands with a laugh. “Sorry, love.”

“Traitors.” I scowled at my guard and husband as they exchanged smirks. “The both of you.”

I needed a victory, and instead, I was getting a lesson in humility. Frustration sang out beneath burning veins. I needed this.

Paige and I circled one another for the hundredth time that afternoon, and I could feel every inch of magic throbbing just underneath my skin. I ignored it the best I could; they were right, of course. I had grown too complacent in my training, relying on magic more and more to make up for variances in strength.